Six Times the Fun (and Chaos)

I am truly lamenting the fact that in this moment of time I am supposed to be packing my things in suitcases so that they may be transported to JoBerg, SA. Instead of musing at this computer screen I should be chosing 6 pair of pants and 6 shirts, some skirts, a few pair of shoes (hardest part by far) and a few summer-ish things to put in the giant REI duffle that has served us many times on over seas adventures. I should be picking out the very best of my work out wear with the solid determination that I will work out over the next 3-6 months (single motherhood and house selling/packing has not been good for my exercise routine). I ought to be scrutinizing which toiletry items I can do without, which books our kids really don't need to read in the near future, and which digital and computerized items can stay tucked away in a storage unit while we drive around in the outbacks of Africa spotting "the big 4". That is what I should be doing in this moment.
But I'm not. I have such a mind cramp when it is time to pack. Unfortunately, I like my stuff. I was just telling some family members last evening how unimportant things really are, and that when you walk away from them and see the world your perspective is more clear and you can brightly see the very small value things really have, and the very great value that experiences and people posess instead. But, when it is time for me to choose what stuff to take and what stuff to leave it seems I can't really live without any of it, and I've surely got to take most of it; just in case.
I'm such a "just in case" kind of person. Perhaps we'll be cold (wool socks and slippers for all!). Perhaps we'll be hot (short sleeved t-shirts and double swim suits a must). Maybe we won't be able to con the kids into eating their veggies (packets of ranch dressing; check). What about possible rain outbursts (wellie boots are so very handy). What if I run out of printer cartridges, and what if the kids need to really get dressed up for church...what if what if what if. What if I had a dollar for every contingency I can fathom; wow would I be rich.
I so admire my sweetheart who gleefully walked onto the airplane with like two small bags for a 3-6 month experience. He has no trouble at all leaving stuff behind. He gets it for real; it is only stuff, and we can do without it. I love that truth about him, and the truth he reminds me of when I go to my closet to make my choices.
So I guess I'll think of him and I'll try not to think of all the "what ifs" and in the next moments of my time I'll make some choices, leave some stuff behind and think on the people and experiences that matter; those that we will encounter and embrace over the next part of our life. And try to remember that while I am with those people and having those experiences I truly won't be thinking about all of my stuff. And when we return and the stuff comes back to us I'll remember it, and I'll put it all away and my days will be filled with taking care of it. Or maybe not, maybe i'll finally learn that I really can do without a lot of it, and I'll share it with others, and I'll try not to consume too much more of it, and instead I'll try to think on doing more without and maybe, just maybe, instead of lamenting my need for stuff, I'll lament over friendships far away, and experiences which were wonderful. And those thoughts won't be lamentations after all, just an appreciation that people and experiences are the STUFF our lives should be made of and the stuff our lives can feel full of.